Page 48 of Grumpy on the Mountain

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I say, grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. "Riley always said I'd probably crash. Or kill someone if I tried to drive anything except my little car."

Beau goes very still beside me. "Yeah, well. He's a fucking idiot then, isn't he?"

There's something dangerous in his voice, and when I glance over, his jaw is clenched tight enough to crack teeth.

"It's fine," I say quickly. "I mean, he wasn't entirely wrong. Did you see what just happened back there? I nearly took out a tree."

"That's called learning," Beau says flatly. "Not crashing and killing people. That's normal when you're starting out."

I can feel the tension radiating from him, and I hate that I brought Riley into this perfect moment. This is supposed to be about me and Beau, about this new thing growing between us.

About last night, and that perfect moment we shared just before. The one that keeps replaying in my mind like a movie scene I can't stop watching.

I've never felt such emotion with just a simple kiss before.

And by simple, I meanall-consuming.

The kind of kiss that starts at your lips but somehow reaches all the way down to your toes, leaving every inch between tingling and alive.

By the time we do a few more laps, I'm feeling downright cocky.

I park the truck. Okay, it's more like I aim it vaguely at the curb and hope for the best… but we end up stopped and in one piece, so I'm calling it a victory.

"I DID IT!" I announce, throwing my hands up in triumph. "I drove a truck! An actual truck!"

"You did," Beau agrees, and he's definitely smiling now. "How does it feel?"

"Like I could conquer the world," I say honestly. "Or at least the greater Stone River Mountain area."

Beau looks out the window and smiles. "And I know just the place to celebrate. Come on."

Beau helps me down the steps and wraps his coat around me, leading me across the sidewalk and into the most gorgeous little restaurant I've ever seen.

Exposed brick walls are lined with vintage photographs of the town, while mismatched antique chairs surround tables made from reclaimed barn wood. Edison bulb chandeliers cast warm, golden light over everything, and the air smells like fresh herbs and garlic.

Beau takes charge and soon, we're seated at a corner table with cushioned booth seating that's clearly been loved for decades.

"This place is incredible," I breathe, taking in every detail. "How did you find it?"

"Sarah opened it about two years ago," Beau says, unfolding his napkin. "She's from New Mexico originally. Wanted to bring some southwestern flair to the mountains."

As if summoned by her name, a woman with kind eyes and graying hair approaches our table. She's wearing a colorful apron over jeans and a flowing blouse, and when she sees Beau, her face lights up.

"Beau Callahan! What a lovely surprise." Her eyes shift to me with undisguised curiosity. "And you must be the famous Molly we've all been hearing about."

Famous?

I shoot a look at Beau, who has the grace to look slightly embarrassed.

"Small town," he mutters and shrugs those huge shoulders of his.

"I'm Sarah," the woman continues, extending her hand. "Welcome to Adele & Pinto. Can I start you two with some drinks? We have a wonderful local wine from Mountain View Vineyards, or perhaps some sparkling water infused with fresh citrus?"

"The local wine sounds perfect," I say, glancing at Beau who nods in agreement.

"Excellent choice," Sarah beams. "It's a beautiful Pinot Noir, very smooth. And for food, might I suggest our winter special? It's a green chili mac and cheese with locally sourced cheese and house-made chorizo, served with fresh sourdough bread."

My mouth literally waters. "That sounds incredible."